


Thankful For

by justa_reader



Category: Glee
Genre: Car Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5266010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justa_reader/pseuds/justa_reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, coming home for Thanksgiving is lovely, except when you want to strip your long-distance boyfriend naked, and there’s absolutely nowhere to be alone. That’s how Kurt and Blaine end up on a deserted road in the backseat of a car, making out like teenagers (because, of course, they are).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thankful For

**Author's Note:**

> Notions of Thanksgiving and going home got me thinking about how young adults struggle to conduct their new lives when they return to old places. (Also, I don't know whether Carole has a sister in canon, but for this story, she does.)
> 
> Originally posted on Livejournal, Nov. 21, 2012

Kurt climbed over the car’s center armrest, falling awkwardly into the back seat and hitting the cold black leather with a thump. He righted himself, leaning back against the passenger side rear window and stretching out his legs. He could feel his bangs falling in wide wisps across his forehead, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He lifted his chin to look at Blaine, who was twisting his torso to gaze at him from the driver’s seat, eyes shining in the moonlit vehicle.

"I can’t even believe we’re doing this,” Kurt said, a smirk tweaking at the corner of his mouth. His heart was beating fast, belying his relaxed position. The thrum of barely suppressed want coursed through his body, causing his breath to quicken.

A worried expression shadowed across Blaine’s face. “But you said…” he stammered.

“Blaine,” Kurt raised a palm to stop him. “I’m kidding.” Kurt smiled and bit his lower lip. “Just nervous, I guess.”

Blaine smiled in return, and exhaled a laugh through his nose. He dropped his hand from the steering wheel and climbed into the back seat to join Kurt.

“You’re the one who picked the old quarry road,” Blaine softly teased as he settled beside Kurt, nestling in close.

Kurt cupped a hand to Blaine’s cheek, slipping the other one into Blaine’s open coat and curling it tightly around his waist.

“Yes, we’re such a high school cliché,” Kurt whispered as Blaine stretched a few inches forward and placed a soft, grazing kiss onto his lips. Blaine pulled back, closing his eyes and tilting his head to press into Kurt’s palm. He opened his eyes and licked his lips, looking right at Kurt. “Like you could ever be a cliché,” he said, his tone tender and playful.

Blaine leaned in again, kissing Kurt harder, messier. He grasped for Kurt’s nape and groaned, deep and vibrating, when Kurt dragged his tongue along Blaine’s lower lip. Kurt felt immobilized—the back of his head against the cold glass of the car window, and his face corralled by Blaine’s warm, wet kisses.

“Kurt...” Blaine said. He was so close that his lips brushed against Kurt’s as he spoke. “I’ve missed you so much. I feel like I could melt right into you. You know?”

Kurt knew.

He arched into the kiss, moving his hand to Blaine’s crown and fisting tightly in his hair, pulling his head back slightly to break the kiss. “I do,” Kurt said. His eyes darted over Blaine’s face, taking in his quick breathing, his open mouth, his long, dark lashes framing eyes that were staring right into his own. “Believe me, I know. Because…me, too.”

***

Kurt flew into Ohio the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. He was grateful to Isabelle for giving him the extra time off. They’d finished the last of a video series on the website, and she expected it to be a quiet week in the office. He needed the break. But more than that, he _needed_ to see Blaine. God, how he needed Blaine.

On the phone with his dad the weekend before, Kurt fretted about telling him that he wanted Blaine to be the one to meet him at the airport. But he shouldn’t have worried. “I get it, kid,” Burt had said. “I know he was disappointed that you couldn’t make it home for the musical.” The reminder stung, but Kurt took a deep breath and mentally committed himself to spending as much time as possible with his boyfriend during the break.

When Kurt spotted Blaine standing in the arrivals area, scanning the crowd with an open and expectant expression on his face, his heart raced. They hadn’t managed to talk or Skype as much as they thought they would, and seeing him _right there_ was suddenly overwhelming. “Blaine!” he called out. He didn’t want to leave him searching for a moment longer than necessary. Blaine turned his head and met Kurt’s eyes, and his face split open in a huge grin, eyes crinkling into thin slits and looking so, so happy.

As they hugged onto each other, Kurt felt the buzz of nervous energy reverberating in his ears and flowing through his body. Everything else faded away in that moment, and it was only Blaine, there, in his arms. Finally.

Kurt pulled back, still holding tightly onto Blaine’s biceps. “Wait, I just realized…shouldn’t you be in school?”

Blaine gave a small shrug. “What?” he said with a smile. “Welcoming back distinguished alums is part of my job as senior class president.” Then he leaned into Kurt’s ear and whispered, “Don’t worry so much. My mom called the school with an excuse. She knew I’d skip anyway.”

The drive back to Lima passed quickly. They chatted and smiled at each other, kissing at stoplights and singing along with the too-early Christmas songs on the radio. Blaine took every opportunity to hold Kurt’s hand, and whenever Blaine had to pull it away to return it to the steering wheel, Kurt’s skin hummed with the phantom imprint of Blaine’s warm and familiar palm.

It all felt so natural again. So easy. And as Kurt focused on his tingling hand, he found himself hoping to return to an empty house. He didn’t want to let anyone else into their little bubble just yet.

Instead, a houseful of family greeted them—Burt and Carole already home from work, and Finn back from Glee practice. And soon, too soon, they were both wrapped up in the loving bustle of the Hummel home.

***

Blaine climbed into Kurt’s lap, straddling his thighs and kissing him again, sloppier and more enthusiastic. Kurt allowed himself to drift, lost to the sensations of having Blaine, _his Blaine_ , back in his arms.

His familiar scent filled Kurt’s nose. The warmth of his skin beneath Kurt’s fingers and the sound of his ragged breaths were so much better than the images he’d often tried to call upon, lying alone in bed in his New York loft. Blaine ground his hips down, his erection pressing wonderfully into Kurt’s own. Groans rumbled through both of their chests and Kurt had to tear his mouth away to catch his breath.

“Blaine…”

No response.

“Blaine…”

Blaine made a soft noise of acknowledgement but continued to kiss along Kurt’s jaw, up his neck, behind his ears.

“Tell me, Blaine. What do you want?”

Blaine pulled back, his eyes momentarily drifting above Kurt’s head. “Here,” Blaine said as he reached out. “There’s a piece of hair…” He smoothed down the lock that had plastered itself to the condensation on the window. Then he brought his thumb, cold with a little lingering moisture, to Kurt’s chin.

“Just you, Kurt. Just… _Kurt_ , I just want you.” Blaine exhaled. “I want you in so many ways, but mostly I want to make you come. I want to see you. Feel you. Please. _Please_ …I’ve missed you.”

Kurt pushed himself up from the window, shifting and moving Blaine with him so they were more upright. He placed a long, closed-mouth kiss to Blaine’s lips, holding it for a few seconds as he memorized how their mouths felt together. Soft and pliant and perfect. He tightened his arms around Blaine’s waist. “OK,” he said. “But you first, Blaine. I want to do this for you, first.”

Kurt dropped a hand to rest lightly on Blaine’s erection, tracing the outline of his cock with his fingertips. It had been two months since he’d felt it, and he’d almost forgotten the way it would leap and twitch under his touch. He ran the pad of his thumb up and down its length, and he longed to feel it closer. Suddenly, he realized how much he wanted, needed, to have his skin on Blaine’s skin. Except they were both so very…clothed.

“Why are we still wearing our jackets?” Kurt asked, pausing the motion of his hand as an abrupt giggle escaped his mouth.

Blaine glanced down at their bodies, his eyes hooded and a slightly confused expression on his face, as if he’d completely forgotten where they were, much less what they were wearing. With his chin tilted downward, he met Kurt’s eyes and grinned. “I have absolutely no idea.”

***

Blaine had to sleep at home Tuesday night, but his parents had given him permission to stay over at the Hummels’ on Wednesday, as long as he was home early enough Thursday to get shined and ready for the Andersons’ traditional dinner with friends at the country club.

Kurt opened the door Wednesday morning to find Blaine, simply dashing in a dark wool coat and neatly knotted scarf, on the stoop with a tray of lattes and some turkey-shaped cookies to share. He knew they’d both been looking forward to a relaxed and domestic 24 hours together, but the cacophony of voices coming from the kitchen was anything but relaxed.

Kurt, already wearing an apron, looked at Blaine apologetically. “Carole’s sister and her family were able to come visit a day early,” he said with a sigh.

Blaine smirked, and stepped up over the threshold to place a cold-lipped kiss on Kurt’s cheek. “So I hear.”

Blaine slipped right into the boisterous family dynamic. He helped Kurt finish rolling out the piecrusts and get the first of two pies in the oven. He consulted with Carole on the choice of candlesticks for the next day. He discussed the unseasonably warm weather with Burt.

Throughout the day, Kurt and Blaine found every excuse to connect through small touches and glances. Kurt’s hand falling to Blaine’s wrist as they talked; Blaine thumbing a smudge of flour from Kurt’s cheekbone; Kurt’s palm resting lightly on the small of Blaine’s back as he regaled the family with tales of the big city. They tried to sneak off to Kurt’s bedroom once, kissing hungrily behind the mostly closed door, but the thundering of Carole’s nieces running through the hallway was enough to convince them to keep it chaste.

After supper, when Carole poked her head in the refrigerator and announced, alarmed, that they were almost out of butter, Kurt turned to Blaine and offered, “No problem, Blaine and I can go to the store.”

***

They shed their coats and tossed them into the front seat. But after that, they paused.

“Um, so now what?” Blaine finally asked. “Seems if we take off too much we’ll freeze.” Blaine was still straddling Kurt’s legs, his hands resting on his own thighs and concerned wrinkles furrowing across his forehead.

Kurt stared, unblinking, and took in the sight before him. Blaine’s hair was askew, his cheeks flushed, and his lips glistening and kissed red. Kurt looked at his best friend, his boyfriend, this beautiful man who _chose to love him_. And who, just a minute earlier, had been whispering desperate pleas into Kurt’s ear.

Kurt shook his head, clearing away the mental fog, and laughed. He threw his head back and laughed.

“Hey.” Blaine punched him in the arm. “It’s not funny.”

“Yes it is, Blaine,” Kurt replied, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold back his giggling. “ _How will we stay warm?_ I have no damn idea. We never did this when it was cold out.” He snickered again. “You’d think being out of high school would mean I’d know how to keep us from freezing so we can have sex in the back seat of a car.”

Blaine smiled, his forehead smoothing out and his eyes becoming dark and focused. “I don’t know, I think you were doing pretty well.”

He gestured toward their laps and Kurt looked down to see Blaine’s erection straining against the dark denim of his jeans, a couple of inches away from Kurt’s own similarly hard cock. Blaine leaned in to kiss him, open, slow and more than a bit sloppy. “And I’m not getting cold,” he said. “Are you?”

Just like that, the laughter drained away and they started kissing again, more passionately than before. Their hands moved everywhere. Up each other’s arms, down chests, across shoulder blades, into hips. They clung together, getting lost in the fast-paced movements as they swallowed each other’s breathy moans.

And, no, they weren’t at all cold.

“Here,” Blaine said, placing his palm flat and warm against the center of Kurt’s chest. “Can I open your shirt? I just…I need to see more of you.”

Kurt nodded and they both made quick work loosening their clothing. Kurt opened his button down, untucking the shirttails. He unzipped his jeans, pulling them, along with his briefs, down far enough to let his cock spring free. Blaine stripped off his sweater and unbuttoned his own shirt. He started on the fly of his jeans, but Kurt reached out to stop him. “Let me,” he said.

Slowly, Kurt worked the buttons, popping each one open with a flick of his thumb. Blaine stilled, staring at Kurt open-mouthed, his bare chest heaving. “Kurt…”

Kurt gripped onto Blaine’s waistband and tugged down as Blaine rose up on his knees, allowing the jeans to slide down, exposing his hipbones and the top curve of his ass. Kurt’s hands immediately drifted around to palm the firm, round muscles, his fingers flexing against Blaine’s skin. “Kurt…” Blaine said again. “God…please. Please touch me.”

Kurt returned one hand to the front, reaching into Blaine’s briefs to pull out his cock. They both gasped when Kurt finally gripped onto it, so hot and familiar in Kurt’s hand. He tightened his hold and gave a tentative stroke, wiping his thumb over the smooth, wet tip. He spread the moisture around, and stroked again, this time with more purpose.

“Blaine…god, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this,” Kurt said, nuzzling into Blaine’s neck and inhaling. “How do you feel so good to me? Tell me you’ve missed this as much as I have.”

“Yes…yes,” Blaine breathed out, not really answering Kurt’s questions, just encouraging him to continue. He closed his eyes and started rocking into Kurt’s fist, riding out the motion.

Kurt couldn’t look away.

Blaine was so loose and open above him. Kurt hadn’t realized how much he'd missed this connection. It wasn’t the pull of want or the ecstasy of release, it was this feeling—this safe, floating feeling of letting go with Blaine, and of Blaine letting go with him.

“Let me make you come, honey,” Kurt said. “I want to.”

Kurt pulled his hand out of Blaine’s pants and brought it to his own mouth, licking his palm and gathering up as much moisture as he could. He returned his hand, now slick and wet, to Blaine’s erection and began to stroke faster, harder. With his other hand, he grasped for Blaine’s ass, reaching down as far as he could and pulling Blaine toward him in time with the rhythm of his hand.

Blaine pitched forward, his arm shooting out to the seat behind them for support. He leaned into Kurt’s ear, making needy sounds that fluctuated between gasps and groans. It made Kurt’s toes curl and his cock, so hard and trapped between them, ache. He needed this, too. Oh, how he needed it.

Blaine mouthed at Kurt’s neck and shoulder with messy, ill-formed kisses. The feeling of this man in his lap—of Blaine’s stubble scratching against his jaw, of his abandoned murmuring, of his hot breath in his ear—was almost enough to make Kurt come without even touching his own cock.

“Kurt…Kurt…” Blaine panted, sucking at his earlobe. Kurt could tell that he was close. He recognized the reedy timber of his voice, the shallow gulps of air, the uncoordinated thrusting of his hips. Kurt swiped his thumb over the head of Blaine’s cock to gather more of the wetness there. His hand was getting a bit dry, but he didn’t want to pull it away, not when Blaine was so, so close. Kurt always felt powerful in these moments just before Blaine came. Amazed by what he could do. Privileged. Awed.

He smiled to himself and inhaled deeply through his nose, noticing for the first time that the air in the car was starting to cool. He jerked hard and fast, twisting his hand on every other upstroke. With the fingers on Blaine’s ass, he gripped tightly and pulled Blaine’s cheeks apart. He crawled his fingers toward the crease and ran his fingertips up and down the taut-skinned line.

“Yes, Kurt. Yes.” Blaine shook above him then, tipping his head back and letting out a long, low groan as he came, hot and wet, into Kurt’s hand.

Blaine flopped his forehead down into the crook of Kurt’s shoulder, and laughed. “Who said he wasn’t sure how to have car sex in the cold?” he asked with a smirk. “It has been awhile since we’ve done that.”

He lifted his head and brought his hands up to cradle both sides of Kurt’s face, pulling him in for a lazy, lingering kiss before breaking away. “Let me find something to clean up with.”

***

Kurt swung a black plastic basket at his side. Blaine was a few steps in front of him, hands jammed in his coat pockets. Kurt felt giddy. He took a moment to enjoy watching Blaine’s even pace, the way he always walked as if he had a song playing in his head. He was so happy to be back in the same air space with him, running a mundane, everyday errand together.

They arrived at the appropriate refrigerator case, and Kurt grabbed a couple packages of salted butter.

“Oh, look at the little butter turkeys, Kurt,” Blaine said, holding up the molded form of yes, a turkey, sculpted out of butter. “Can we get one?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, and silently nodded for Blaine to add the ridiculously shaped dairy to the shopping basket. They’d picked up a few bunches of flowers as well, orange and red carnations that would be a nice addition to the Hummels’ Thanksgiving table, and some fresh fruit for the next day’s breakfast.

“I wish you could stay for dinner tomorrow,” Kurt said, hugging Blaine to his side as they headed toward the checkout. The store was fairly deserted—it was pretty late—and Kurt felt comfortable enough to pull Blaine in for a brief kiss to the cheek. “Maybe next year.”

“Maybe next year,” Blaine replied.

A broad smile on his face, Kurt turned to Blaine to respond, but the words died on his tongue as he looked at his boyfriend, _really looked_.

“Oh my god, we need to go to the restroom,” Kurt said, grabbing Blaine’s elbow and steering him in the right direction. They entered the bathroom, and Kurt wrinkled his nose at the slightly dusty bouquet of autumn-hued cloth flowers on the countertop.

Kurt brought Blaine’s attention to their reflections in the mirror. “We’re a mess, Blaine.”

And they were.

Their hair was tousled—Kurt’s falling flat across his forehead and Blaine’s sticking up in places it shouldn’t. Blaine’s shirt was buttoned up crooked, a top button missing the proper hole, throwing the rest of them off kilter. Kurt’s skin was blotchy and red, still flushed from their earlier activities.

“We cannot go home like this,” Kurt said, setting the shopping basket down and turning on the faucet to get to work.

***

Blaine shifted off of Kurt’s lap, moving away from him to sit on the center armrest and lean backward, stretching to reach the glove box in the front seat. Kurt smiled. From his vantage point, Kurt had an unhindered view of Blaine’s partial nakedness. His jeans and briefs pulled open, his cock resting against the bunched-up material, softening and smeared with come. His toned chest was exposed, dampness accentuating the dark hair on his lower belly.

“Hey, look…lube!” Blaine sat up abruptly, holding a package of tissues and a small bottle of lubricant. “Who knew?”

“Well, aren’t you the Boy Scout?” Kurt teased as Blaine scooted back closer and reached for Kurt’s hand, gently holding it as he cleaned it off. He tossed aside the used tissues and placed a kiss to the center of Kurt’s palm.

“I always did like the uniforms,” Blaine replied. He glanced up and ran his fingers tenderly through Kurt’s hair. Then he returned to kissing Kurt’s hand, licking lightly along the palm lines, mouthing at his knuckles, placing soft kisses onto his fingertips. Blaine had that post-orgasm blissed-out look that made Kurt’s heart melt. He was so very, very beautiful.

“Now, let me take care of you, Mr. Big Shot New Yorker.”

“I certainly won’t stop…” Kurt started, cut off as Blaine covered his mouth with an intense kiss, rolling his hips down hard against Kurt’s naked erection. “I don’t think… It won’t take…” Kurt tried to talk between kisses. He turned his head to the side so he could breathe. “Blaine, I’m so close already. You know how much I love watching you come.”

Blaine sat up and smiled. He silently held Kurt’s gaze and squeezed a generous dollop of lube into his right palm, rubbing it with his fingertips to warm it before bringing his hand to Kurt’s cock. “I know you do,” Blaine said. He tightened his grip, not stroking yet, just holding, but still eliciting a sharp gasp from Kurt. “And I adore listening to you, too. So don’t you dare hold back.”

With that, Blaine began to stroke, spreading the lube across the smooth, veined skin of Kurt’s cock. It felt a bit too messy, honestly, but Blaine’s hand slid easily, so very easily, across Kurt’s length. Kurt was momentarily unable to make any sound at all, the strong and confident pressure from Blaine’s hand such a relief after waiting so long. His mouth hung open, breaths becoming shallow and fast. “Blaine…” was all he could say, quietly, before his head fell back against the headrest and he let out a long, _loud_ moan.

“Yes, sweetie, that’s it,” Blaine encouraged. “Let go for me.”

Kurt was vaguely aware of the smooth leather seat behind his back, of the moon shining into the rear window above his head, of his legs, getting a little numb from the too-cramped space of Blaine’s back seat.

“Blaine…Blaine.” Kurt was unable to say much more, completely lost to the sensations. His mouth had gone dry and he swallowed, his breaths coming in ragged puffs.

He could feel Blaine’s comforting weight on him. Blaine’s hand on his cock. Blaine, licking a line up Kurt’s exposed neck. Blaine whispering encouragement in his ear.

Kurt felt his orgasm building low in his groin, lingering and growing stronger before starting to spark through his limbs. Blaine brought his mouth to Kurt’s shoulder and Kurt swore he could feel him smile widely against his naked skin. Then Blaine bit down on the strong muscle and Kurt shuddered out a quiet _“oh god”_ as his orgasm rocketed through him and he came into Blaine’s palm, his whole body tensing and then relaxing as Blaine stroked him through it.

“Well, then,” Kurt said as he started to come down, wearing what surely was a dopey grin. “I suppose we should get going to the grocery store.”

***

Kurt put the butter away in the refrigerator and set about making a pot of decaf coffee. Burt walked into the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen island. He looked first at Kurt near the sink and then at Blaine, sitting on a tall stool.

“Have trouble finding what you needed at the store, boys? Burt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Dad,” Kurt replied, turning slightly from where he was holding the coffee pot under the faucet to fill it. “Eagle was completely out of the good butter, so we had to drive all the way to Buehler’s.”

Burt nodded, his expression blank. “So, Blaine, I suppose you can sleep in Kurt’s room tonight. With Laura here early, the guest room is taken.”

Kurt and Blaine glanced at each other, their views partially obstructed by the big vase of carnations sitting on the counter.

“I’d remind you to keep the door open and be respectful of the family home, but I’m counting on both of you being too tired to do anything but sleep,” Burt continued. “Because, I may not pay attention to clothes much, but I’m pretty sure Blaine was wearing a sweater when you left for the store. And Kurt’s neck certainly didn’t look like someone had attacked it.”

Burt lowered his chin and leveled a serious gaze at both boys, then grabbed a green apple from a bowl on the counter and bit into it as he left the room.

Kurt blushed a deep crimson and dropped his head with a loud sigh before glancing up to meet Blaine’s eyes, which were wide and a bit panic stricken. Kurt smiled, then shrugged. He walked over to Blaine and stood between his knees.

“You hear that, honey?" he asked with a mischievous smirk, pressing their foreheads together. "Any other high school clichés you want to try out tonight?”

-end-


End file.
